The table I draw and write at was made and carved in India, but I bought it Hamburg, to then bring it to Southern California. It’s a well travelled table, and as it can tell so many tales, appropriate for a storyteller. It holds many things (it’s a very big table): shells, stones, Chinese coins, dragons, a paper angel given to me by a child in New Zealand, the photo of a boy who was shot at the Elementary School of Sandy Hook, given to me by his father, to always remind me that stories should comfort and give shelter, but also have to talk about the darkness of this world.
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